But the water slowed her down, and I ducked her reckless blow. She drew back the log for another swing, but I surged forward, hooked my leg around hers, and knocked her off-balance, sending her crashing down into the water.
She popped right back up again a second later. “You bitch!” she screamed. “I’ll kill you for this—”
I kicked her legs out from under her again. Then I dug both of my hands into her hair and shoved her head under the water.
And this time, I didn’t let her surface again.
Amelia kicked and heaved and thrashed, but the bottom of the lake was muddy and slippery, and she couldn’t get enough traction with her stiletto boots to stand up and throw me off. I squished my bare feet and toes even deeper into the cold mud, bracing myself as best I could, and kept my body pressed down on top of hers.
Amelia lashed out with the driftwood log over and over again, still trying to hit me, but her blows grew slower and weaker, until she was just flailing around. Then even that stopped, and she quit struggling altogether.
I held her head under the water for another three minutes, just to be sure she was dead.
Finally, I let go, and Amelia floated up to the surface. Her black hair billowed out around her like an inky cloud, but her green eyes were frozen open in shock, panic, and fear. I let out a ragged breath, glad that she was dead instead of me.
The waves pushed us back toward the shore, and I grabbed hold of the driftwood log and tugged Amelia along with me. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I dragged her out of the water and back up onto the sand before finally letting go. The driftwood must have hit a rock buried in the sand, because the log split open, revealing the metal glove still on Amelia’s right hand. The claws glinted in the moonlight, and her fingers were curved, almost like she was going to leap up, swipe out with them, and cut me again. The thought made me shiver—
“What did you do?” A soft, anguished whisper sounded.
My head snapped up. A teenage girl stood on the sand a few feet away. Even if Fletcher hadn’t shown me pictures of her, I still would have known exactly who she was, since she had the same black hair, green eyes, and pretty features as her mother.
Alanna Eaton, Amelia’s daughter.
She was supposed to be away at boarding school for another week, which was one of the reasons Fletcher had wanted to do the job tonight. What was she doing here? My heart dropped, and my stomach twisted. Watching me kill her mother, for starters.
Oh, no—no, no, no, no, no.
Alanna stared at me, then at her dead mother, then back at me. “What did you do?” Her voice grew higher and sharper with every single word. “What did you do!”
“I—I—I—” I sputtered, but of course I didn’t have an answer.
But she didn’t need one, since it was so painfully obvious what had happened, what I’d done. Alanna ran past me, threw herself down onto the sand, and started shaking Amelia’s shoulder.
“Mama!” she screamed. “Mama! Wake up, Mama! Wake up!”
But of course, her mama was never going to wake up—and I was the reason why.
Alanna collapsed in a heap on top of Amelia’s body, still screaming and sobbing and begging her mother to wake up. I just stood there, cold, numb, and frozen, knowing that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help her.
Amelia Eaton had been an evil vampire bitch who hunted down innocent people, cut them open, and snacked on their blood and bones. She would have done the exact same thing to me if I hadn’t killed her first. It had been her or me, simple as that. I didn’t regret killing her.
What I did regret was that Alanna had seen me do it.
Every single one of the girl’s screams was as sharp as a knife to my heart. I almost felt like Amelia was still alive and slicing me to ribbons with her metal claws one anguished cry at a time.
But the worst part was that I knew exactly how Alanna was feeling. I knew those screams, those sobs, that wretched heartache, all too well. I had experienced them myself when the Fire elemental had murdered my mother.
And now I had just inflicted that same soul-crushing pain on another girl.
Being an assassin meant hurting people, but this was the one thing I had vowed never, ever to do to anyone. I had never wanted another daughter to see her mother die the way I had seen mine. Guilt, shame, and regret churned in my stomach. Bile rose in my throat, and this time I couldn’t keep it down. I staggered away and spewed up all the champagne I’d drunk earlier in the evening.
I heaved and heaved until my ribs ached and hot tears streamed down my face. I felt like I’d vomited up my heart along with everything else, but I forced myself to wipe off my mouth, straighten up, and see all the misery I’d caused. This was my mess, my mistake, and I didn’t get to slink off and pretend like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just destroyed another girl’s whole world.
Alanna was still huddled over her mama’s body, although she had stopped screaming. Now she was holding Amelia’s hand, the one with the metal glove, and whispering something to her dead mama, although I couldn’t hear what it was.
I drew in a breath and slowly shuffled toward her, not quite sure what I was going to do. Apologize, maybe…or something. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know, but I needed to do something. I needed to find some way to help her—
“Gin,” a voice called out.
My head snapped to my right. Fletcher was standing at the bottom of the terrace steps, a rifle clutched in his hands. The old man looked no worse for wear, except for a splatter of blood on his cheek. More blood gleamed on the butt of his rifle. He must have had to get up close and personal to finish off the vampire guards.
Fletcher took in my sick, guilty expression, then looked over at Alanna, who was still whispering to Amelia. Regret filled his green gaze, as sharp and bright as shards of glass, but it was quickly replaced by a coldness—one that I had never seen before, especially not directed at a teenager like Alanna.
“Let’s go,” he said in a low, rough voice.
“But what about her?” I whispered back.
“She’ll be okay.” That coldness in his face echoed in his voice now. “Lights are coming on all over the estate. The other servants heard the gunshots. They’ll find the girl soon enough. We need to leave.”
He turned and started walking along the shoreline, but I remained frozen in place, still wanting to comfort Alanna, even though I knew that I couldn’t. Fletcher realized that I wasn’t following him, and he stopped and made a sharp motion with his hand.
“We need to leave,” he repeated. “Right now.”
Slowly, I staggered forward, trudging through the sand. Alanna and Amelia were between Fletcher and me, and I had to walk right past them to get to him.
My shadow fell over Alanna, who looked up, hate blazing in her eyes. She snarled, her lips drawing back to reveal her fangs, and surged to her feet. Something metal glinted in the moonlight, and I instinctively threw my arm out.
Too late, I realized that Alanna had pulled the metal glove off her mother’s arm and strapped it to her own.
Her claws sliced deep into my right arm, and I felt the silverstone points scraping against my bones. I screamed and staggered back. Pain shot up my arm and spread out through the rest of my body.
Alanna grinned, held up her index finger, and licked my blood off the claw, just like her mother had done. Shock spiked through me, even harsher than the pain of my wounds. It was like I was looking at a mirror image of Amelia, one I’d just helped to create.
Alanna snarled and charged at me again, but Fletcher came up and pushed her from behind, and she tripped and fell to her knees in the sand.
The old man rushed over to me. “Gin! Are you okay?”
I cradled my injured arm up against my chest, feeling my own warm blood soaking into my wet dress. But that pain was nothing compared to seeing the horror of what Alanna was—or, rather, what I’d turned her into.
“Fine…” I rasped, even though it was a lie. ?
??I’ll…be…fine…”
“Here. Let me help you.” Fletcher slung the strap attached to his rifle up over his head and then down across his chest, so that he would have both hands fee. He stepped forward and put his arm around my waist, supporting me. “You’re losing a lot of blood. Put pressure on the wound. You know what to do.”
I did know what to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. I bit my lip, wrapped my left hand around the deep, jagged wounds, and clenched tight, even though it made another wave of agony ripple through my body.
White stars exploded in my eyes, and I would have fallen if Fletcher hadn’t tightened his grip on me. Alanna saw this as an opening, and she started to get to her feet, but Fletcher stabbed his finger at her in warning.
“That’s enough,” he snapped. “That’s enough. Stay down.”
For a moment, I thought Alanna was going to surge to her feet and charge at him anyway, but she finally realized that she couldn’t win, and she huddled in the sand next to her mama’s body again. She gave Fletcher a sullen look, then turned her gaze to me. Rage flashed in her green eyes, making them glow as brightly as two emeralds set in the pale beauty of her face, and her hand curled into a fist.
“I’ll kill you for this!” Alanna screamed at me. “Do you hear me, you assassin bitch? I’ll kill you for this! I’ll kill you for this!”
She kept screaming those words over and over again and shaking her fist, which was still encased in that metal glove, even as Fletcher dragged me away from her.
A few minutes later, we made it to the trees, and Fletcher helped me move into the shadows. We stopped, and I swayed on my feet as he cut off the bottom of his shirt and wrapped it around my clawed arm. He tied off the makeshift bandage as tightly as he could, making me whimper.
“There,” he said. “That will have to do until I can get you to Jo-Jo.”
I blinked the latest burst of stars out of my eyes, and my gaze locked onto Alanna, who was still sitting next to her mama’s body. Flashlights sparked to life on the terrace above her, and more shouts cut through the air. One of the beams fell on Alanna’s face, and she snarled up into the light like a rabid animal.
Twin fists of guilt and shame crushed my heart one after another, and I would have doubled over and vomited again if I’d anything left in my stomach. Fletcher put his arm around my shoulder, hugging me tight.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not your fault, Gin,” he said in a low voice. “Amelia ruined her. That girl already had venom in the veins long before we came along.”
Venom in the veins? He made it sound like some horrible, incurable disease, something that you couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried, something that would haunt you for the rest of your life. Just like what I had done to Alanna would forever haunt me.
“How do you know?” I whispered.
“Look at her clothes.”
I forced myself to look at Alanna again. I hadn’t noticed it before, but she was wearing a red jacket with gold buttons, along with black pants and boots. The same sick, twisted hunting outfit that Amelia had on.
More horror filled me, and I looked at Fletcher.
“Amelia started taking Alanna on hunts when the girl was just five years old,” he said in answer to my silent question. “Alanna was going to help her mother track you down tonight, and she would have happily torn you to pieces right alongside Amelia.”
“But…I killed her mama…right…in front of her.” Tears streamed down my face, and fresh pain spiked through my body, although it had nothing to do with my wounds.
“You couldn’t help that,” Fletcher said in a gentle voice. “You didn’t know that Alanna was here, and Amelia didn’t give you a choice about killing her.”
“But…it’s just like…” I started to say what happened to me, but I couldn’t get the words out over the hard knot of emotion in my throat.
Fletcher hugged me closer. “I know it is, sweetheart. I know.”
We stayed like that for several moments, with me crying and him still hugging me.
The people with the flashlights reached Alanna, and she scrambled to her feet and pointed in our direction.
“They went into the woods!” Her voice rang out across the lake. “Get out there, and chase them down! Now! I want them brought back to me! Alive!”
I shuddered at the deadly promise in her voice. Fletcher was right. She did want to tear us to pieces, but I couldn’t blame her for it. Not after what I’d just done to her.
The people with the flashlights swarmed around her for a few more seconds, and then the beams swung around in this direction.
Fletcher’s mouth flattened out into a thin, grim line. “C’mon, Gin. Time to go.”
The old man put his arm around my waist again and led me deeper into the woods. Our feet crunched through the underbrush, but the noise wasn’t nearly as loud as Alanna’s screams ringing in my ears over and over again…
I woke up with my heart in my throat, my stomach tied in knots, and tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes. Beside me, Owen murmured and threw his arm across my chest, as though he’d sensed my turbulent emotions and was trying to reach out and comfort me, even while he was asleep.
But I couldn’t be comforted. Not tonight.
I lay absolutely still for several minutes until I was sure that Owen wasn’t going to wake up. Then I slipped out from beneath his arm, got out of bed, and threw on a fleece robe. No way was I going back to sleep anytime soon. Not with that nightmare fresh in my head and my guilt and shame pulsing in my heart.
So I went downstairs and walked from one room to the next, peering out the windows and staring into the dark night. I’d done the same thing at Owen’s mansion last night, and things were as quiet now as they had been then. Strange. I’d expected Alanna to send some more hired hands after me by now, but nothing moved or stirred, and I didn’t see the telltale signs of flashlights bobbing through the woods that flanked the house.
Whatever item she wanted from Mab’s estate, it didn’t seem like Alanna was coming here after it tonight. But it was only a matter of time before she made another run at me. I was certain of that, and I didn’t blame her for it, not one little bit.
Not after I’d killed her mama right in front of her.
Once again, it struck me how very much alike Alanna and I were, with our murdered mothers and lost family homes. But the thought that troubled me more than anything else was the fact that I was her Mab Monroe, the person responsible for destroying her family.
I grimaced. That was the thing that shamed me the most. I’d never wanted to be like Mab, but ironically enough, I found myself following in the Fire elemental’s footsteps more often than not. Killing my enemies, becoming queen of the underworld, ruthlessly eliminating everyone who was a threat to me and my loved ones. And now I was being confronted by the daughter of the woman I’d killed, just as I’d finally confronted Mab, just as I planned to confront Mason.
Alanna wasn’t the only one who suffered from venom in the veins—I did too.
Fletcher had been right when he said that Amelia had ruined her daughter and twisted Alanna into a younger version of herself, vampire cannibal and all. That had happened long before I came along. But I had added to Alanna’s pain and rage, which made me partly responsible for what she’d become.
But Owen was right too. Alanna was all grown up now, and she made her own choices, especially when it involved hurting other people. And if she came after me or Mosley or anyone else I cared about, then I would take her down, despite the role I’d played in creating her.
I just wondered who would win this family feud in the end, Alanna or me.
And what the cost might be to us both.
Chapter Twenty
When I was satisfied that no one was lurking in the woods, I went into the den and turned on the lights, fully intending to sort through Mab’s things again until I found what Alanna, Tucker, Mason, and the Circle were after. But the sight of all those bo
xes filled with all those books depressed me, so I procrastinated and went into the kitchen instead.
I grabbed some oversize marshmallows, dark chocolate bars, and graham crackers from the cabinets, stacked them together on a cookie sheet, and baked myself some s’mores. Golden puffy marshmallows, ooey-gooey melted chocolate, crispy graham crackers. Not quite as good as making them over a campfire, but they still hit the spot.
On a night like this, I needed something warm and sweet to get me through the cold, bitter memories.
I stuffed one s’more into my mouth, put the others on a plate, and carried them into the den, along with some napkins and a glass of milk. While I nibbled on my late-night snack, I pulled a few books out of the box closest to me. I halfheartedly flipped through the pages, but they were the same as before. Just books. Words on pages, ink on paper. Nothing more, nothing less.
So I set the books aside, finished the last of my s’mores, and wiped the graham cracker crumbs off my hands. Then I leaned forward and picked up the photo of my parents, which was still lying on the coffee table.
The picture must have been taken at some society gala, since my mother was wearing a glittering blue gown and my father had on a classic black tuxedo. Eira and Tristan made quite the handsome couple, despite their tense expressions.
I traced my fingers over their faces, then studied the background, trying to tell when or at least where the photo had been taken. But all I could make out were a few round tables covered with white linens and some white twinkle lights in the distance, both of which could be found at any party at any time of the year.
So I stared at the other person in the photo, Mab Monroe.
Despite my hatred of her, even I had to admit that Mab had been stunningly beautiful, with her red hair, black eyes, and creamy skin. The Fire elemental was dressed in a white gown that set off her bright, coppery hair, and a sly smile curved her scarlet lips, as if she knew some great secret that my parents and I didn’t. Smug bitch.
I had started to set the photo aside when a small bit of blue against Mab’s dress caught my eye. Curious, I raised the picture back up again.